


A Most Important Quest

by ladydragon76



Series: Quest [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Bob’s on a mission of utmost importance.  His master would probably disagree, but sometimes a bug just needed to take matters into his own claws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Characters:** Bob, Sunstreaker, Drift, Crew of the _Lost Light_  
>  **Warnings:** None  
>  **Notes:** I was bribed, and prompted: "Pets are a way to pick up a fling."

“Damnit! Bob! _Bob_!”

Bob skittered back, hiding under the table as Sunstreaker hurried by, calling his name. He usually listened very well to what his master said, but he had an idea. Well, more of a notion. He knew his master was lonely. A whole swarm surrounded them, but still they sat away from the others. There, but so very outcast.

Bob didn’t like being an outcast. That meant fear and hunger, loneliness and no snuggly mates or genitors or offspring to cuddle in recharge. For master it meant long hours of silent brooding, watching the rest of his swarm laugh and play, but ignore him.

No. This was not acceptable. His master was a good member of the swarm. They just needed some help so the others could see it. Outcasts could regain status, and Bob was going to find a way to help his master do just that.

Even if it earned him the dreaded ‘Bad boy!’.

Bob waited until the heavy tread of Sunstreaker’s footsteps faded, then crept out from under the table, belly close to the ground.

“Oh! Hey-yyuuurrrgh!”

Bob tackled the mech’s leg, claw tips curling into armor gaps. He hissed, antennas flattened back, and all four optics narrowed in a glare and directed at the blue visor.

The mech’s hands went up, and he didn’t make any further sounds, so Bob eased back. He tipped his helm. This one generally had a lot of attention. Others laughed and came to see _him_. He also had plenty of fuel. So much so, that he just handed it off to everyone. Bob sniffed him, snorted, and decided he wouldn’t do after all. He didn’t want a mech that his master had to share quite so much with the others, and fuel was plentiful for now, even for them as outcasts. Plus, if he was always here, that wasn’t going to change things much for Sunstreaker. They already came here a lot, and being ignored in favor of others by a mate would only be worse.

“Ok then,” the mech muttered as Bob turned away and trundled off. He sniffed a few of the other mechs at the tables. Some were nice and scritched his helm, but others cringed away. He noted the nice ones for future personal attention, and left the bar. None of those mechs would do.

“Oh! Oh my!”

Bob paused, helm tipping again, but the little orange mech shied back, _then_ reached out to greet Bob. Bob was polite and pushed his helm into the gentle hand, but dismissed this mech as a candidate. His master was a solid mech, capable of protecting this one, but in need of someone that could help Bob take care of him too. They definitely needed someone that wasn’t so skittish.

Bob trotted off, trailing after scents.

No, that one was too aggressive. Sunstreaker needed someone far more patient than the one-opticked mech.

No, that one liked being isolated. He wouldn’t help Sunstreaker be accepted better into the swarm at all. Bob didn’t even approach him as he tromped through the corridors.

That one was nice, and he had a relaxing shade of blue with his white plating. _He_ stopped when he saw Bob, crouching and reaching out with both of his hands. Bob plopped his aft to the floor and indulged in some great petting. Would this one work? He was rather smallish. Maybe a larger mech? Bob would keep this one in mind though, since he was cheerful and friendly.

With a final purr and nuzzle, he moved off. Only a few corridors and a lift ride away Bob came across a big mech. He chirred happily, aft wiggling as it landed on the floor. He gave the mech his best greeting chirrup and-

Was promptly ignored.

Oh! No, there he looked back.

Bob shuffled around, antenna waving as the mech stopped and turned.

“You should not be here unescorted, and it was only the fact that you are so well-trained that I allowed Sunstreaker to bring you aboard in the first place.”

Bob’s antennas drooped, but then the mech spoke, saying his master’s name again, but he wasn’t addressing Bob anymore.

Bob turned and ran, dashing around the first corner he came to, then picking up speed. The big mech would have been a good choice. He was strong, close to Sunstreaker’s swarm leader, so he could have been helpful, but not if he was going to speak so sternly to Bob, and then use the _same_ tone with Sunstreaker.

He glanced back to be sure he wasn’t being followed, and nearly crashed right into a brightly colored mech. Bob skidded to a halt right at the swarm leader’s feet, and hunkered down.

“Hey, Bob!” The mech crouched, both hands going to Bob’s helm to scratch and rub.

Bob relaxed as he realized he wasn’t in trouble, and wondered. Though he should probably show proper submission while he thought. He slumped to the side, softer belly plating exposed, and chirped. The swarm leader laughed, hands going right for Bob’s belly to rub and scritch. He chattered back in rapid-fire mech language, too fast for Bob to understand most of it, but he was friendly. He had a lot of energy, and was the swarm leader, so he must be strong. He was even brightly colored like Sunstreaker.

Of course, swarm leader taking an outcast as a mate?

Bob might be aiming a little too high there.

He rolled back to his feet, stretched his helm up for one last pat, then tottered off as the swarm leader walked away. He heard voices behind him though, and started to run again. There was a shout, but it wasn’t his master, so Bob kept going. He rounded another corner, ignored the mech that always carried the funny little case with him as he yelped, and made for a door up ahead that was just starting to close. He would hide for a little bit, then go out to search more after a bit.

Bob was not expecting to careen into yet another mech. He chittered, scrambling off the white mech and pressing his belly close to the floor. His antennas flattened, small secondary arms tucked in, armor tight. This was the one with the long sharp claws.

“Hey, boy, are you ok?” the mech asked. He sat up and held a hand out to Bob, palm up and empty. No claws.

Bob sniffed in his direction, crept forward a little, still huddled to the floor.

The mech smiled, shifting to sit with his legs crossed, posture relaxing. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

His plating loosened, and Bob’s did as well in response. He leaned up a little more, edging closer to the hand. Then finally tipped his head into it as it curved up and settled warmly on his helm.

Bob scooted even closer, offering a tentative purr. The mech responded by purring back and massaging the base of his antenna _just_ right.

~

Sunstreaker ran when Ultra Magnus commed him. He did _not_ want Bob getting airlocked! He didn’t understand what the frag the bug thought he was doing. He _never_ took off like this.

All of which Sunstreaker repeated again and again. A ship-wide announcement was finally made when the searching and calling where Bob had last been seen yielded no results. Only an instant later a ping hit Sunstreaker’s comm. He hurried to Drift’s location and almost fell over his own feet when he entered the swordmech’s little ‘meditation’ room. His mouth was open, but no words came out as Drift beckoned him in.

Sunstreaker moved, trying to shove away the very real fear that he had lost his only fragging friend.

But no. Bob was _in_ Drift’s lap, purring away, optics dim and blissed out as Drift’s fingers rubbed and scratched and practically massaged the insecticon’s head.

“He found me,” Drift offered with a shrug. “Then made friends,” he chuckled.

Sunstreaker sighed, shaking his helm. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know when he snuck off, or how he even-” He cut himself off. It didn’t matter. “Come on, Bob. You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.” He stepped toward the door, but even though Drift’s hands had retreated and he’d leaned back on them, Bob stayed where he was.

“Bob. Come.” Sunstreaker punctuated the order by pointing at the floor by his feet.

Four golden optics brightened, but opened no further than the narrow slits they’d been. The purr remained too.

“ _Bob_ ,” Sunstreaker said in a warning tone. Bob’s antennas twitched, but if anything, the purring became determinedly louder.

Drift was biting his bottom lip, clearly trying not to laugh, and Sunstreaker felt his face burn. “Bob! Now! Bad boy, get your aft over here!”

The purr faltered, the antennas dropped, but Bob didn’t budge.

Drift’s laugh finally broke free, and he leaned forward over Bob, arms wrapping around him. “I like you too, Bob, but can’t you see Sunstreaker’s been worried about you?”

“Traitor,” Sunstreaker muttered, then felt his face scorch even hotter.

Bob whined as Drift moved, pulling himself out from under the insecticon and standing. “Why don’t we go get some energon? Maybe we can work out what he’s up to.”

“Being a glitch,” Sunstreaker said, though really, he was actually aching a little. Bob had never preferred anyone’s company more than his. Not even Ironhide’s.

“Come on,” Drift insisted, walking toward the door. “Maybe he just wanted to get away from all the noise of the other mechs? We could go up to the observation deck?”

Sunstreaker nodded, because what the frag else was he going to do with _his_ bug trotting after the slagging third in command, who was at least not angry? He shoved aside who Drift used to be from his mind. Mechs changed. Obviously.

And screw it. So Bob had decided he needed a new friend. He knew Bob was smarter than most of the others suspected. If Sunstreaker wasn’t enough for friendship anymore, well… he’d just have to learn to live with it. At least Drift seemed cool enough. He carried the conversation, and Sunstreaker didn’t even really have to think much, just nod or grunt. Primus, he really sucked at this, but Drift didn’t seem to mind, or even notice.

At least once they were on the observation deck and sitting, Bob plopped his aft at Sunstreaker’s feet, and leaned against his legs. There was purring and big optics, and happily twitching antennas, and Sunstreaker couldn’t stay irritated with all that cute being piled on. He smiled and shook his helm, and when Drift asked, he told him how he’d ended up with Bob in his life.

~

It was _late_ when Bob and Sunstreaker returned to their den. Bob was inordinately pleased with himself. That had worked out _far_ better than he’d hoped.

Oh, his master wasn’t mated yet, but mechs seemed to require more than a good sniff and a tussle for dominance before mounting one another. It looked to be going well, however. Sunstreaker had not just smiled, he’d _laughed_. It was only a soft little huff, but it’d been a laugh. A sound Bob hadn’t heard in longer than he could mark.

He curled up on Sunstreaker’s legs, purring and secure in the knowledge that he’d chosen well for his master.

Now. To get them to realize it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bob’s plan is working. Kind of.

Drift, and everyone else, was getting used to Bob’s random appearances. Ultra Magnus was still quoting code violations under his breath, but since Bob never actually caused damage, and Rodimus thought he was ‘just great’, nothing much could be done about him.

Sunstreaker tried. The poor mech was so distressed. He said he had no idea why Bob was being ‘disobedient’ suddenly, or why he wouldn’t leave Drift alone, and he apologized and tried to drag Bob away whenever he got Drift’s ping. Drift really didn’t mind Bob, and said so every time. He really didn’t mind Sunstreaker’s presence either, and tried to encourage it.

It was hard to keep smiling, hard to keep trying to impress Rodimus, prove he was worth something, when most of the time there was just flying along through the emptiness of space. Drift was lonely, he finally admitted. Surrounded by mechs, third in command, doing enough to interact with many of the crew every day, but he felt… alone. Isolated in a way he couldn’t quite put to words.

Sunstreaker and Bob were welcome- no, he wouldn’t even call them distractions. Company. They were welcome company. Most of the time they sat in Drift’s meditation room or up on the observation deck, sometimes they went to the bar. Drift did most of the talking at first, but now and then he managed to get Sunstreaker to open up a little.

He found himself anticipating Bob’s arrivals. It meant he got a few minutes of purring and snuggling, and someone genuinely happy to see him that really wanted his company for no reason but to be near him. It also meant he got to comm Sunstreaker. And nope. His spark didn’t give a funny little flutter every time he did of late. Definitely not. Where would anyone get that idea?

So when there was a muffled thump against the door of his quarters, Drift was already up and crossing to let the insecticon in before the chime sounded.

And how impressive was that? Drift was pretty sure that Sunstreaker hadn’t _taught_ Bob which button on the keypad was to call for admittance, but he certainly knew the right way to do it. Drift had caught him at it and seen how he did it too. He had left his quarters, then returned only a few minutes later, having forgotten the datapad he’d needed, and there was Bob standing on his hind legs, large front limbs braced on the wall and door, and one of the small, more dexterous little ‘hands’ was poking the call button.

Drift keyed open the door, stepping back to let Bob trot in. His spark absolutely did _not_ just flutter as he pinged Sunstreaker.

“Hi, Bob,” Drift said, leaving the door open for Sunstreaker.

He took a seat on the floor, and Bob flumped his front end into his lap the next instant. Drift chuckled, both hands going to the insecticon’s helm to rub and scratch. He paid special attention around the bases of the antennas, and Bob was purring in a blissful rumble by the time Sunstreaker appeared in the doorway.

“Bob,” Sunstreaker said, tone caught between a whine and a groan.

“I’ll say it again,” Drift began, “I really don’t mind the company.” Ok… his spark _might_ have fluttered there. But just a little. Like, it was probably his imagination, though why he’d _imagine_ tha-

Yeah, no. Drift wasn’t going to think about that. Especially with Sunstreaker stepping into his private quarters.

“Yeah, but it’s late. Little slagger went and took off just as we were going back to our quarters to recharge.”

Bob looked over at Sunstreaker.

“Yeah, you, ya daffy bug.”

Bob snorted, then shifted to tuck his face against Drift’s belly, blatantly ignoring his master. Drift shook his helm and tried not to laugh. “Is this going to become a thing, Bob?” The insecticon looked up at him. “Do I need to come give you good-night cuddles before recharge now?”

Bob chuffed, antennas waving, and Drift could almost believe that meant ‘yes’.

“No.” Sunstreaker patted his hand on his thigh. “Come, Bob.”

Sunstreaker sounded tenser than usual, and it was a bit late, so Drift nudged Bob. “Cuddles had. Go on.”

Bob backed off, so Drift stood. He could walk them back to their quarters if Bob insisted, and no… no, he wasn’t hoping the bug insisted. Not at all.

Drift blamed the fact that Bob had never been rough with him, never even hinted he could be, for the fact that he was taken so completely off guard when the insecticon slammed into his back. It was a powerful enough shove that it had to have had Bob’s full weight behind it. Drift flew forward, everything blearing around him except for Sunstreaker’s wide, surprised optics. He caught Drift automatically, stumbling back a few paces to fetch up against the wall beside the door.

Sunstreaker looked stunned as Drift hung in his embrace, but Drift could only think, _Slagging clever little bug_. He leaned up on the toes of his feet, hands gripping Sunstreaker’s helm. His spark _definitely_ fluttered, but then his lips touched Sunstreaker’s and it slagging well flipped over and flared.

Ok. So he might be attracted to the mech.

At first Sunstreaker just stared down, optics still wide, but then his arms tightened and his optics slid shut. Drift let his own close as Sunstreaker kissed him back, helm tipping to fit their mouths together even better.

It ended far too soon for Drift. He’d just been starting to get dizzy, but Sunstreaker’s hands pushed lightly at his sides, so he stepped back, trying to keep his vents cycling normally.

“Apparently you need good-night cuddles too,” Drift offered, shrugging.

Sunstreaker rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the room before they both spotted Bob parked outside the door. Drift thought he looked inordinately pleased with himself.

“Uh… ‘kay. Night.”

Sunstreaker fled, and Drift could have sworn Bob rolled his optics before following. Drift shook his helm as he shut the door. All right. He was in. Bob clearly approved.

But what did Sunstreaker want?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission: Successful. Bob is a 'good boy'.

Sunstreaker’s mind chased itself in circles for days after Drift kissed him.

It meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything. Drift was playing along with Bob, just having a little fun. He didn’t _really_ want Sunstreaker. It was just him being nice. Drift was nice to everyone now, and that didn’t mean he genuinely _liked_ Sunstreaker. It didn’t matter what he said either. Because he was tolerant of _everyone_. And _nice_.

Sure, he could push Bob away, be more firm, but he wasn’t going to. Even Ultra Magnus was kind of, sort of, more or less tolerant because Rodimus liked Bob, and _everyone_ knew that Drift was his turbopup.

Ok, that sounded really uncharitable, but Sunstreaker couldn’t deny how hard Drift worked to get Rodimus’ approval. _Everyone_ saw it. And Sunstreaker himself had seen the proprietary touches. No slagging way did he want to get in the middle of that. He could take Rodimus out pretty easily in a fight, but he didn’t want to. His reputation was slagged enough, not to mention he _never_ played tug-o-war for a mech’s affections.

Ever.

Sunstreaker was way too attractive for that. He also knew he was fragged six ways from Sunday in the head, but he was still really nice to look at, and being a traitor hadn’t really changed the amount of mechs trying to get into his berth, just the sort of mech and what they were after.

Could that be it? Did Drift maybe just wanted a quick one-off? Sunstreaker sure wouldn’t mind interfacing with Drift. He used to be a Decepticon, so he _might_ like it rough?

Slag, Sunstreaker wasn’t sure he could do ‘rough’ anymore. It’d kind of been a while. Just because lots of mechs chased him didn’t mean he let them touch him after all.

Yeah. No way was he ‘facing Drift. He didn’t need to embarrass the slag out of himself, get laughed at, then have a possessive commander on his aft about trying to steal his boyfriend while not even doing a decent job of it.

Bob whined, pawing at the door. Sunstreaker looked up in time to see him jump up and poke at the buttons in an attempt to get out. That was getting old, but he knew he was being unfair to his pet. He couldn’t hide forever. Sunstreaker was going to have to leave his quarters soon, risk Bob taking off and going to Drift.

Primus. How idiotic, how _pathetic_ was he to be jealous of the bug liking someone else?

Sunstreaker winced as Bob’s claws squealed down the metal of the wall as he deliberately sank to all fours. “Fragger.”

Bob looked at him with narrowed optics and chuffed, antennas angled back.

“I don’ wanna.”

Bob’s hind foot suddenly struck out, kicking the door hard enough for a _thoom_ to echo through their quarters.

“Bob!”

The leg poised for another blow, four narrow golden optics locked on a pair of aquamarine.

The door chime sounding startled them both, but Sunstreaker took petty glee in the way Bob jumped away from the door, plating clamping down. He recovered fast though, skittering back over to the door to paw at it, leaving Sunstreaker to scowl stubbornly.

There were _very_ few mechs that would come looking for him.

Bob whined, rising up on his hind legs to thump against the door. Sunstreaker couldn’t pretend not to be there. And really, the kick was probably what had caused someone walking by to investigate.

Fine.

Sunstreaker stood up, and Bob bounced back, aft wiggling, antennas perked, a happy, “Rrrrrr,” rumbling from deep in his chest.

“Daffy bug.” Sunstreaker denied there was any affection mixed in with the exasperation, and keyed open the door.

Bob chirruped, and pounced forward.

“Hi,” Drift said, smiling at Sunstreaker. “Hey! Easy, Bob.” He lifted the tumblers of energon in his hands up out of reach, then turned his smile back on Sunstreaker. “Hungry? I haven’t seen either of you in a few days, so I thought I’d come by for a visit.”

“Uh… Yeah. Yeah, come in.” Sunstreaker scrambled to recover, and stepped back so Drift could enter. He turned away, picking up the datapads scattered across the single small table, and fumbled a little as he shoved them up on a shelf. His quarters were little, drab, and it was probably a good thing he didn’t have many possessions because it lacked storage beyond one miniscule locker and the shelf over his berth.

Which was also the only seating he had. Great.

Drift set the energon down, then crouched to greet Bob. Sunstreaker hoped the envy and sadness didn’t show on his face. He loved his bug, and no matter how stupid it sounded, he didn’t want to lose him to anyone else. If he didn’t have Bob, he didn’t have anyone left.

Sunstreaker sank down on one corner of the berth, and just watched. He knew Drift was saying something to Bob, but he couldn’t hear it. Yeah. _That_ was comforting.

Drift stood, still smiling, spotted Sunstreaker, and picked up the two tumblers before sitting right next to him on the berth and offering one. Like _right_ next to him. “So where have you been?”

Sunstreaker took the energon, sipping at it to buy time. “Working on training Bob a bit more.” Not _entirely_ a lie.

Drift nodded, shifting a little as he leaned back on a hand and drank some of his energon too.

The move brought their legs into contact, and Sunstreaker hid behind the fuel. Was that how it was going to be? He couldn’t deny a certain thrill at the thought of interfacing with Drift, but it was a _bad_ idea.

Bob chose that moment to hop up on the berth on Drift’s other side. Sunstreaker braced out of long habit, holding his energon out to the side, but Drift had no such experience. When Bob threw his weight against him, he inhaled energon, launched into a coughing fit to clear his filters, and wound up sprawled against Sunstreaker’s side. Drift’s forearm landed on Sunstreaker’s thigh, energon sloshing from the tumbler in the same hand.

Sunstreaker just stared down at his back a moment as he choked. Energon in the vents was not fun, so despite the heavy helping of awkward, he laid his hand on Drift’s back.

Hey! Where was the sword? Sunstreaker didn’t think Drift went anywhere without that thing.

Ok, not a priority right now. “Are you going to be ok?”

Bob climbed half on Drift, snuffling, antennas waving. Sunstreaker pushed him back. “Bob! Down! Primus already.”

Drift pushed himself up a bit as Bob sat back. Sunstreaker took his energon and stood, setting them on the table. “Fraggin’ glitch bug,” he grumbled. “Guess it’s a date with a washrack.” Primus, he could feel the energon rolling along on the inside of his plating.

“Sorry.” Drift sounded contrite, hand held awkwardly, probably suffering the same itch around his wrist joint that Sunstreaker’s thigh was.

“Don’t worry about it. I know who’s _really_ at fault.” Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at Bob, but Bob remained unphased. He sat perched on the berth, helm tipped, antennas forward, optics all bright and curious. “You are so lucky I love you.”

Bob purred, recognizing ‘I love you’. Sunstreaker heaved a sigh, and looked back at Drift. “Come on. It’ll get really itchy if we don’t get it off.”

Drift hovered for a moment, glancing between the spill and Sunstreaker.

“The floor won’t get irritable if it gets all sticky.” Which was… probably said with a bit too much irritation already. Sunstreaker wasn’t angry with Drift, and he was only mildly annoyed with Bob, but the bug was too cute to hold a grudge against.

When Sunstreaker keyed open the door, Bob trotted out and turned toward the washracks. Sunstreaker shook his helm and waited for Drift to hurry over. They followed in Bob’s chipper wake, but Sunstreaker was nervous. Drift usually spoke more than this.

“So, uh… vents ok?”

Drift offered a smile that was just a little wry at around the edges. “Stings a little, but I’m sure I’ll survive.”

The washracks weren’t that far from Sunstreaker’s quarters. A bonus for him, even if his single-occupancy room was a bit away from most crew quarters. Bob was waiting, aft waggling, in front of the door. Sunstreaker snorted at him. “What? Like you’re planning on washing up too?”

Bob’s antennas angled back, neck tucking. No, Bob didn’t do washes, but since all Sunstreaker wanted was to hose out his thigh, he wasn’t going to fuss over cajoling his pet in for a cleaning.

That washing up was pretty quick, and while Bob sat by the door, playing speed bump for anyone else that showed up, Sunstreaker and Drift rinsed their various energon-coated parts. The quiet from Drift was getting to him though, and Sunstreaker searched for a safe topic to discuss.

“Think the bug missed you.” There. Safe enough even if it made his spark squeeze a bit.

Drift smiled over at Bob, before working the small drying cloth under the plating by his wrist. “Well, I missed both of you, though spilled energon wasn’t part of the plan.”

Sunstreaker felt his face heat a little. “There was a plan?”

“Maybe less of a plan, more of a hope?”

Sunstreaker figured he understood that well enough. “Rodimus not going to get mad at you?”

Drift blinked, optics wide and confused. “What’s he have to do with me hoping to share some time with you?”

Sunstreaker’s mouth twisted like he tasted something bad, and bent over his leg to dry it. “You two are sort of together, aren’t you?”

“What? No. Uh. Not like that anyway. I mean…”

Sunstreaker glanced up as Drift trailed off, but the uncomfortable- no that was pain. Sunstreaker knew that look. He saw it in the mirror often enough.

“It was fun,” Drift said, shrugging a little. “But I kind of… failed really, really badly.” His optics wandered everywhere Sunstreaker wasn’t. “I know he was possessive, but it was never like _that_.”

“Oh.” Wow, could he sound more intelligent? And ok, so no jealous commander to really worry about, but Sunstreaker didn’t know if he really wanted to get tangled up in a relationship. He had never been good at keeping his emotions separated.

“If you’re done, I’ll help you clean up?”

Did Drift look hopeful? Sunstreaker glanced at Bob and decided that _he_ did look hopeful. Like when Sunstreaker asked if he wanted to go run around, and then they’d go jogging through the corridors all over the ship. His gaze shifted between the two, and he decided he was doomed. Had he just picked up another stray runt?

“Yeah. Sure.” Because really, why not. What was the very worst that could happen? His spark might get broken? Pff. He’d survived a _lot_ worse than that.

And Bob liked Drift.

~

Bob helped clean up the spilled energon when they got back to their den. Sunstreaker fussed at him while Drift laughed and said he was a ‘good boy’.

He was. He knew it.

Bob moved quietly to the door. Neither of them were paying any attention to him, too busy grooming one another’s mouths. He balanced on his hind legs carefully, making sure not to thump the wall this time, and poked the button to open the door.

A quick glance back proved they hadn’t noticed, and he trundled out to the corridor. He knew from prior experience, even if it was long ago that his master didn’t like Bob there when he was mating. Assuming they got past the grooming.

Bob surveyed the corridor, then headed off toward the gathering place. There were a few mechs there he was sure would give him belly rubs and treats.

He _definitely_ deserved treats for all his hard work. Maybe a few more ‘good boy’s too.


End file.
